


Somewhere In My Car

by jrugg



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 06:30:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3239786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jrugg/pseuds/jrugg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Catherine is gone from David's life but in his mind they are still somewhere in his car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere In My Car

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something that pops into my head every time I hear this song. Tatennant hurts sometimes, but hurts so good. As always, enjoy and thanks for reading!

David found his car in the busy airport car park and haphazardly threw his small rolling suitcase in the back seat. Getting into the driver's seat, he shut the door and leaned his head back, exhaling deeply before starting the car. He was home from his week in America promoting his latest project and as much as he hated travel these days, being home was even worse. The thought of going back to his dark and empty flat was so depressing that he actually hoped to be stuck in traffic.

Pulling his car out of the covered car park he saw that it had started raining. Perfect, he thought, at least this weather was appropriate to his mood. His luck, or lack thereof, continued when he flipped on the radio and one of her favorite songs was playing, one of the only current songs she actually knew. His hand subconsciously reached for his mobile, wanting to call her, but he mentally berated himself for trying to do that. They weren't together anymore, she wasn't his, and he best remember that.

_“David, we can't do this,” she mumbled, her lips hot and wet against his neck._

_“You're the one kissing me Cath,” he protested while his hands made their way under her shirt._

_“I can't help it. I love you.” The words ghosted over the shell of his ear, making him shiver. But the words themselves weren't enough._

_“Then stay.”_

_“I can't. We want different things. I can't be who you want me to be.”_

Stopping at a red light, David shook his head trying to dispel the memory of that awful day. They had been happy, there was no denying that, and he had gone and messed it up by pushing her for more. He knew, dammit he knew, that she never wanted to get married. She had told him that from the very beginning, back when they were just friends and the thought of a relationship was only a fleeting thought in each of their minds. But as their relationship progressed and they fell in love and the months turned into years, he wanted to put a gorgeous ring on her finger and he foolishly thought her views might have changed.

_“Will you marry me?”_

_He was down on one knee and she looked at him with wide eyes, her hand clutching her necklace._

_“Oh David,” she said gently. “I love you, you know that right?”_

_All he could do was nod. That was not the response he was hoping for._

_“I love you but I can't be a wife. I just can't.”_

_He stood up and put the ring back in his pocket, one of the most difficult things he ever had to do._

_“I'm so sorry,” she said. “Please, I don't want this to change anything between us.”_

But things had changed. He noticed her pulling away from him, her eyes sparkled a little less and her laugh wasn't as genuine around him. Then came the day when she actually left, a day filled with tears and desperate pleas and lovemaking, anything to get her to stay. But she still left and now here he was, headed back to the flat that they had once both called home, where all he had was a cold empty bed awaiting him, a framed photo of them still on the nightstand.

The rain pelted his windshield and amid all the painful memories, he was reminded of a night similar to this when they had been in this same car, somewhere, anywhere, the exact location was unimportant; all that had mattered was that they didn't care enough to get home.

_The windows were fogging up around them as they traded heated kisses, the insistent sound of the rain mixing with their soft moans. The driver's seat was pushed all the way back as Catherine straddled his lap, her hips grinding against his. Her fingertips toyed with the fine hairs just above his waistband before gripping the bottom of his shirt and pulling it up and over his head, leaving his hair sticking up at all sorts of angles. She loved his hair like that; she said it reminded her of when they first met._

_He leaned forward, his arms around her waist as her fingers slid down his bare back. Her shirt fell loose and off her shoulder and his lips kissed her skin there before nipping at her collarbone._

_She whispered that she couldn't wait, that she needed him right now. In a flurry of movement, pants were pushed down and knickers were moved to the side but neither completely came off and then he was inside of her, her walls stretching and clinging to him like he was made just for her._

_The glow from the streetlights illuminated her pale skin and brought out the vibrant fiery hue of her hair. She tossed her head back and her hair cascaded down her shoulders in beautiful ginger waves._

_She gyrated her hips, pushing her sensitive clit against his coarse hair and when his hands pushed her bra up and he rolled her nipples between his fingers she came undone, panting his name._

David was pulled out of the memory as he reached his flat. Luckily the rain had lessened to a barely there drizzle as he made the short walk from his car to the main door. He carried his suitcase up the short flight of stairs hoping, as he always did, that he would see her standing outside his door, waiting for him.

She wasn’t there, of course, but that didn’t stop him from sighing in disappointment. He used the light from his mobile screen to guide him down the hallway to their, no his; nothing was _theirs_ anymore, bedroom. No use turning on the lights when he was just going to go to bed and hopefully sleep until noon so he wouldn’t be reminded of how she used to get up early and make coffee for the both of them.

And he really should get rid of that picture on his nightstand. He had taken it on one of their trips to the beach; the wind was whipping her hair around her face and they were looking at each other and smiling, she with that wide dazzling grin that she reserved just for him. Everything about that trip had been perfect and that had been when he decided he was going to ask her to marry him.

Nowadays all he could do was look at that picture and be filled with memories that were bittersweet as he had the urge to shake his past self and tell him not to ruin a good thing.

He wished he could stop torturing himself and move on but instead he chose to picture them somewhere in his car, those windows fogged it up and her lips on his. That was much better than the alternative.


End file.
